Lasting Memories
by xXxLasting-MemoriesxXx
Summary: "Fragile: the perfect description of life. One touch can bring up or tear you down leaving nothing but memories for comfort during the cold nights…" "One moment you're a kid on your father's shoulders, then you blink and the world's on your's…" Note: A set of drabbles updated daily from all eras and characters. Requests allowed. Didn't know where to place this story… :
1. A Miniscule Vow

**Title: A Miniscule Vow**

**Character(s): Severus Snape**

**Date: Not specified**

**Prompt(s): Severus Snape, the incident, nefarious**

**Word Count: 301**

Clouds clogged up the sky as a crisp, bitter wind lacerated through the Black Forest making the leaves crinkle and shatter. Dark, beady eyes analyzed the area that sheltered them, as feet snapped branches that lie forgotten on the ground. Farther they penetrated the forbidden place the darker life fell as company died into piercing silence. The nothing overwhelmed his body as the betrayal- the hurt- snaked around his heart and stabbed it with its thorns. How did Black ever ponder up an idea such as that? What did he ever do to deserve that treatment?

The way Potter strutted into the Shrieking Shack, with that smug semblance, to save the pitiful Severus Snape from the werewolf, which he was not qualified to defeat. The sound of Black's sheer laughter proving his insanity, the fat oaf chuckling darkly along, and Potter's eyes taunting poor Snivellus and waking him up to the fact that he had fallen for it; the entire night was planned to make a fool out of him. Well, never again, Severus vowed, would that happen.

He vowed it to the dancing forest that caved in around him, vowed it to the on-coming rain that would regenerate life, vowed it to his demons that crawled beneath his skin. One day, Potter and his gang would eat their pride, regret ever messing with him, and bow down to him. He wasn't weak and he wasn't a fool and they wouldn't trample him anymore.

As he withdrew from the protection of the trees, the moonlight struck his eyes as he scowled at the Whomping Willow and a nefarious smirk crept on to his pallid face. One day, the tables would turn. One day, he'd prove himself worthy- he'd prove himself better than them and he'd make sure they knew it.

* * *

**Author's Note: If it wasn't clear, this was set after Sirius tricked Severus into going in the Whomping Willow and Skrieking Shack while Remus was a werewolf. James came in and rescued him from Remus and the incident didn't only leave Severus upset, but Remus felt like a dangerous being and James was upset with Sirius putting a strain on their friendship. It was the turning point from James' maturity.**

**On other notes, I felt as though this would be a good way to start a drabble a day story and I hope you enjoy it. Reviews are cherished, and I try to reply to everyone, however, occasionally I forget. I'm human though, so please don't take that against me.** **I hope you enjoy.**

**Oh, and if you enjoyed this, you should check out Morning Lilies story: Days in a Year. Her drabbles are amazing, like seriously, you all should g read it.**

**-xXxLasting-MemoriesxXx**


	2. The Coldness in Mercy

**Title: The Coldness in Mercy**

**Character(s): Bellatrix Black-Lestrange, Narcissa Black-Malfoy, and Andromeda Black-Tonks**

**Date: The night before Narcissa goes to Hogwarts**

**Prompt(s): benumbed**

**Word Count: 452**

Running feet raced down the hall and into the third bedroom on the left, before the young, blond hair girl jumped onto the bed next to her sister. She grinned as she rolled on to her back and examined the oldest at the vanity. Bellatrix sat with prefect posture as she carefully drew a brush through her hair, as she focused on maintaining the elegant façade that she was raised to portray by her mother. After a moment, she set the item on the wooden- the finest wooden, that was- platform and tilted her head. She took a deep breath, before sharply turning, so she was facing the other two. Her dark eyes remained slits as she judged and assumed what thoughts were cascading through their heads, if it wasn't an idea worthy of a Black, than her respect decreased.

"Excited about Hogwarts, Cissy?" wondered Bellatrix, in a nonchalant voice.

The blond hair girl gave a small shrug and mumbled quietly, "I'm a bit nervous, Bella." She shamefully gazed down at her hands and sighed, "What if I don't make Mummy proud? What if I do something wrong like get placed in a different house?"

A sinister grin peaked on to the oldest's face, as she rose from the chair and took a spot of the bed beside the youngest. She shook her head and chuckled, as though her sister's fears were comical. No, they _were_ hysterical.

"You fatuous, ignorant girl, we are Blacks. The finest family in the entire Wizarding World, known for our cunning, deceptive presentation. You represent our bloodline- ancestry- phenomenally- not as well as me, of course- but you do a fantastic job, so don't let me hear you ponder about being sorted into one of those," she cringed, "other houses."

Her face loosened permitting a smile to tug at her lips, and the barbaric glint in her eye illuminated, as she finished, "You are a Slytherin, Cissy; it's in your blood, forever."

The middle daughter listened to the advice. It was authentic, what the other students spoke about, how her family's prejudice deciphered what road they traveled, and there was no escape except death. However Sirius managed to, but his name was forbidden to speak of in the 'exceptional' house. He would be better off dead, thought Andromeda, as she rested her head on the pillows.

Glimpsing over to Narcissa, she coldly spoke, "And if you aren't, you should entreat at mother's feet that she gives you mercy and murders you there."

She didn't commend to the path of the Blacks, but it was in her blood, her name, and one must do what was acquired to live. No matter how they aspired life to mount to.

* * *

**Author's Note: This is how I envision Andromeda to be, as though she wasn't totally sure what she wanted to be. I will have two coming up about Bellatrix and Narcissa too. I vision them differently from some people, well, not Bella, but Narcissa. You'll just have to read to find out what I mean. (:**

**If you liked this, you should check out Morning Lilies story: Days in a Year; it's amazing.**

**-xXxLasting-MemoriesxXx**


	3. Wishes On A Star

**Title: Wishes On a Star**

**Character(s): James Sirius Potter**

**Date: post-war**

**Word Count: 396**

**Prompt(s): Quidditch, defeat, "Glory Days"**

How did he get here? Take it back two years and he had the world at the palm of his hands; everything was going _his_way. He was the Captain of the Quidditch team, a wondrous Chaser, - well, he thought- and Mr. Popularity. People brawled over who got to sit by him at lunch and now, people disregarded his existence. He was a nobody that the world could easily forget. Nothing turned out the way he had planned so many years ago.

What happened to his dreams that ignited the determination and spark in his chocolate eyes? Or the state of mind where nothing would slow him down; nothing would stop him? They evaporated with the rain and the deceased seasons that was what occurred and he despised it. Everything his life surrounded disgusted him and everyday that slipped away reassured him that he was a failure, and the worst part was he couldn't figure out how to fix it.

James Sirius Potter carried the cardboard box over to the shelves and set it on the floor. Subconsciously, he tore off the tape and began setting the products in their rightful positions just like his uncle insisted. The classic Potter smirk that used to captivate his lips was a lost friend that was replaced by a frown. He hadn't smiled in an extended amount of time, so long that he wasn't positive whether his muscles remembered how and he didn't have the desire to see. Where did stupid grins get him anyway? The last time he checked no where.

He had failed at Quidditch- the professional teams preferred his own brother over him- and was never talented enough to pull off being an Auror, so he had to settle with working at the jokeshop. Sure, he got the money to pay the bills for his one bedroom flat, but he didn't have much left over to impress the opposite sex with for longer than one night, so he had to manage a lifetime in few hours. The one-night stands left him with two sexually transmitted diseases, he could thankfully be cured off, and an ego damaged worse than before. He didn't want that to be his life. He yearned for more, but at twenty-one and on his own, he had a feeling his wishes weren't coming true. This was it.

And he had to face it.

* * *

**Author's Note: I've never seen James getting what he truly wanted in life. I have a oneshot coming out from this drabble, which my turn into something more, I dunno though. We'll see. (: Hope you enjoyed.**

**If you liked this, you should check out Morning Lilies story: Days in a Year; it's amazing.**

**-xXxLasting-MemoriesxXx**


	4. Fairytale

**Title: Fairytale**

**Character(s): Lorcan Scamander and Ava Renolds (OC)**

**Date: post war**

**Word Count: 561**

**Prompt(s): Lorcan Scamander; _Kiss Me Slowly_ by Parachute**

The golden orb levitated in the cerulean sky, as a swift breeze soared across the mountaintop, racing through the tall grass, occasional trees, and wild flowers. Blue Tits churred and teed as they nestled into their homes or wittily maraudered for insects or spiders to eat, as rabbits consisting of all shades grazed the contents of the ground. Melodic laughter latched on to the wind and spread throughout the land, as two teenagers made their way to the top; the girl was in front, treading backwards, as her ebony locks danced across her face, with her almond eyes shimmering in the light. The boy, who often ran a hand through his blond hair, grinned at her soft laughter that lit up the world in his sparkling, blue eyes.

"So, Mr. Scamander, what are these nargles you talk to intelligently about?" She wondered, as she stopped to let him catch up to her.

Shoving his hands into his blue jean' pocket, he gazed around. He shouldn't be sharing these creatures with her, he shouldn't be telling her about magic, but what sort of best friend would he be if he kept the secrets trapped inside? A very poor one, he thought, as he climbed higher.

"Well, Miss Lyon, nargles infest mistletoe, so during the Christmas season, they are always around. Besides hanging around the plant, they are very well known for being thieves. One time, when I was a third year-"

"At Hogwarts," she grinned, as she sped up, almost sprinting the rest of the path.

"Yes, at Hogwarts, they stole all my homework- a joke in their eyes, I assume- and hid it all over the castle. I never did find all of it…"

Her eyes widened in amusement, as she faked a gasp and slightly frowned.

"Poor you, did you have to redo it all?"

He caught up to her, and took a second to catch his breath. The top of the mountain was breathless, a perfect place to camp out, if only Lysander had agreed to come along on the trip, but Lorcan was quite pleased with the outcome, anyway.

Walking through the meadow, glancing at the birds in the trees and rabbits on the ground, he shook his head.

"No, my parents understood the unfortunate circumstances, so they didn't care as long as I did do them. Of course, my Professor were bothered by my lack of responsibility, but in reality, I really did do it."

The girl lay down on the back and inspected the endless sky. She laid her head on her hands and sighed. Noticing this, Lorcan made his way over to her and sat- legs criss-crossed- and peered down at her countenance. A pinch of hope swarmed through him that perhaps one day the two could work out and become a couple, just maybe.

"You make it sound so real, Lorc, as though you've been there and these creatures exist all around us." She paused, the light in her eyes fading.

Letting out a deep breath, she looked at him.

"Too bad things like that are just make believe. It's just a bunch of insanity bundled up with images into fairytale… just stories…"

He could argue that it was reality for him, but then she'd classify him as mentally unstable and he'd loose his best friend. Some secrets were never meant to be spoken…

* * *

**Author's Note: I've never pictured Lorcan or Lysander ending up with a Potter or Weasley. Not everyone finds relationships within each other, but that's just my take. I hope you enjoyed it though. (:**

**If you liked this, you should check out Morning Lilies story: Days in a Year; it's amazing.**

**-xXxLasting-MemoriesxXx**


	5. Mending a Mess

**Title: Mending A Mess**

**Character(s): Ronald Weasley**

**Date: Ron's point of view, when Harry finds the Sword of Gryffindor**

**Word Count: 395**

**Prompt(s): _The Mess I Made_ by Parachute**

Brown eyes pranced around his memory, as the leaves crunched beneath his heavy feet. He heard his name being called her voice on rerun in his mind; it was taunting him for not turning around. His left his best mate, after all this time, alone during the moments he needed his help the most. He couldn't remember why he was so anger or what exactly occurred, but what happened did and it was a mess he made. That last part, he was positive of. Not a day since he deserted them in the forest did the memories not burn the backs of his eyes. With his hand shoved in his coat pockets, he grasped the Deluminator. It was cold against his fingers and unintentionally he pulled it out and flicked.

A ball of light appeared, flickered as it levitated, before it gradually floated over to him. As it came, a voice ascended from it, in an almost haunting, yet warming tone.

"Ron…"

It wasn't just any person's voice; it was _her_ voice calling for him… just him.

Mesmerized by the incident, he could only gawk as it pressed into the left side of his chest- a warm flutter rushed through him- before disappearing within. Unsure, he raised his right hand and touched the area where the light had been. Glimpsing up the hordes of trees in front of him, a silver orb hastened through the obstacle, urging him to follow. So, he did, he chased after it.

After a moment, the speed decreased and it halted in the air, as if it was waiting for something. He crept up to the orb and before he had a chance to catch his breath, the orb morphed into a majestic, silver doe. It rose its head as to stare him in the eyes, before dashing through the forest once more. Where it was taking him, he was oblivious, but he knew he had to go.

At the edge of a frozen lake, the doe gracefully pranced across until it stood upon the middle. Then, just as easily as before, it switched into a glowing orb and Ronald Weasley understood what had to be done.

He carefully maneuvered, being sure not to break the ice, and just as he reached the spot, the orb that was leading him dove into the frozen waters and Ron did the same.

* * *

**Author's Note: I wasn't sure about this, but I've never written something along these lines and I wanted to try. I feel it turned out okay, it could've been better, but I wrote it and I'm happy. I hope you feel the same way.**

**If you liked this, you should check out Morning Lilies story: Days in a Year; it's amazing.**

**-xXxLasting-MemoriesxXx**


	6. Marching On

**Title: Marching On**

**Character(s): Sirius Black, mentions of other Marauders**

**Date: Right before Sirius breaks out of Azkaban**

**Prompt(s): Best friends, _Marching On_ by One Republic  
Word Count: 312**

Sirius relaxed his head against the stone wall as he listened to the thunder rumble outside. His body ached and his brain pleaded for him to give in, but his heart continued marching on. The sound of rain drowning the world brought him back to his school years, where they were on top and no one could tear them down. If only he could travel back to then, he'd fix so many things; he'd change so many things.

Four silhouettes craved into his memory came to life as his mind drifted away. Each one had an arm around the ones beside them as they stumbled up the road towards Hogwarts; all of them mumbling something inaudible. The one to his left, with the uncontrollable black hair, crazy spark in his hazel eyes, and knowing smirk, and the one to his right, a sandy-haired man, average size, and dark, yet warm chocolate eyes. The one to the left of the black haired man should mean nothing to him, but the chubby man, with blond hair, would always have a meaningful place in Sirius' heart- no matter what the plump boy did to them, as of the chubby man from the present, he couldn't careless about…

This was his life. This was his world. This was what kept him marching on.

They were the Marauders- Messieurs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. No one could tear them down.

Perhaps, now, they were going on their separate ways and Prongs was well gone, Wormtail betrayed them, and Moony was trying to keep his life from spiraling out of control, but Sirius knew someday the darkness would turn bright and peace would glide across the land. And that was when the Marauder's would be united like they should've always been…

But first, he had to escape in order to hunt Petigrew and get his revenge at last.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**So, how do you like it? It's just a small thought that came to my mind when I was relaxing. I have one about how Remus deals with it all, and if I can manage to do justice to it, one about James right before death. **

**I've always imagined everyone not hating Wormtail, but the Petigrew he turned into, if that makes sense? If it doesn't, let me know and I'll try to explain it better.**

**-xXxLasting-MemoriesxXx**

**P.S. Reviews mean the world to me, but I'm not going to beg for them. Just thought I'd let you know they really make me smile. (:**


	7. When the Music's Gone

**Title: When the Music's Gone**

**Character(s): Harry Potter**

**Date: Morning after the Final Battle**

**Prompt(s): _Safe and Sound_ by Taylor Swift**

**Word Count: 561**

The first thought that cascaded through his mind was that he could really go for a sandwich. The second was that the sun was a little too bright shining through the dormitory's window. Groaning, his emerald eyes stirred awake and his breathing eased. His body felt as though someone had dropped a cement wall on it, then had Giants and Centaurs trample it. He grimaced as a sharp pain raced through his body as he slowly sat up and gazed around the room.

Empty.

Instead of seeing the faces of the mates he grew up with, he only witnessed four other vacant beds that appeared to have never been touched the previous night. The ugly curtains hung in their rightful places, as Gryffindor pride illuminated more than the newly risen sun. The floor was clean, expect the occasional dust bunny, and suddenly, he felt as though he was staring at a foreign place, not the dormitory that raised him. An agonizing pain gripped his heart as he felt his head lighten and his stomach churn; he wasn't returning to the same world as before, but a new polished one that was a stranger to him.

Happy.

Why wasn't he? He had defeated the darkest wizard of all time and brought peace to the world once more. But did he really? Voldemort was powerful, strong, nefarious, but intelligent. How could a man that shoved fear into so many people, yanked the world of its innocence, and had everything planned out really be gone? What if instead of murdering the soulless man he had even more of him within him? What if he wasn't only a horcrux anymore, but actually turning into the man? The possibilities were endless. If Harry had learned anything in the Wizarding World it was that anything was possible, and to finally have the war over couldn't settle as the final reason of what occurred in Harry Potter's mind.

There had to be more; there always was more.

His life wasn't a muggle fairytale where the hero defeated the antagonist and went on to live a happy ever after. There was always a twist- always another turn to go around- where he ended more confused than before. The battle dragged on, and every time the people thought it was the end, it'd be back worse than before. The sky would drain of the cerulean, gray clouds would sail overhead, and at the first sound of thunder everything would be back to the way it was. That was his life, not what his was living in right now. So, it only made sense for him to expect more. It may take years, but he knew Voldemort would be back; he had to be and he would be waiting.

The Prophecy.

It let him know that it was truly over, but what about what he has been told? Prophecies are not set in stone and they change just like the people do, so were they really something to go by to say that it's over? He couldn't trust anything, because no one-nothing- had the last page of his life written out in ink somewhere. Sometimes he wished it was and he could have a sneak peak into what was awaiting him in the approaching storm. Some things weren't meant to be known, though… and he had to leave it at that.

* * *

**Author's Note: I am currently making this longer and into a one-shot, I hope you all enjoy it. (: Reviews make me happy.**

-xXxLasting-MemoriesxXx


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